


Staycation

by mlyn



Series: Evening [3]
Category: 13th Warrior (1999)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-21
Updated: 2010-10-21
Packaged: 2017-10-23 07:48:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mlyn/pseuds/mlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lots of everyday things remind Herger of Ahmed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Staycation

Ahmed clicked the button on the browser page and sighed as the new image loaded. Another vision of unattainable beauty. This one had classic lines, sumptuous and golden, gleaming invitingly. He'd never get within a thousand meters.

He heard the front door and Herger's voice, calling for him. "In here," he called back, and left the page as it was.

Herger found him in the office soon enough, and stopped behind the desk chair. His hand stroked through the short hair on the back of Ahmed's head, down his neck, and rested on his shoulder. "What's that?"

"The entrance of the royal suite at the Burj al Arab." Ahmed clicked another link and went to a page with photos of the bed and bath, icons of decadence on raised platforms. It looked like something Louis XVI would have had tucked away in a corner of the Palace of Versailles.

"Lovely…if a bit opulent." Herger squeezed his shoulder, and then he bent to look at Ahmed's face. "You want to go, don't you?"

"It's twenty thousand dollars a night," Ahmed said, and closed the browser. "Gold staircase and leopard print rugs. Of course it's beautiful, but…"

"Perhaps I can find a contact in the hotel industry over…where was it?"

"Dubai. That's the other problem. They don't exactly like our kind."

"Mmm." Herger squeezed his shoulder again and leaned in for a kiss. "Their loss."

* * *

  
It was a Saturday in early June. The weather had finally decided to stay warm consistently, and the pavement of Karl Johans Gate was packed with people soaking up every last ray they could get as the days lengthened. Ahmed held on to Herger's fingers as Herger navigated the throng, walking from the French creperie where they'd just finished lunch to the better shops up the hill. Herger had worn a look for several days, the look that said he was going to buy something for Ahmed, and was thinking of a way to talk him into it.

They entered a men's boutique and Herger slowed by the accessories wall. A salesperson came out from behind the desk. Automatically Ahmed dropped Herger's hand, although he'd been assured—repeatedly—that no one would bother them, especially in downtown Oslo.

Herger half-turned to the man, but kept his attention on the products—casual, unconcerned by the attention. " _God dag._ "

" _God dag. Hva ser du etter?_ " The salesman looked very polite, and gave Ahmed a smile before looking attentively at Herger.

Ahmed concentrated on what the man had said. _What looking you…_ And 'etter' meant _after_ , so he had asked…what Herger was looking for, in an idiomatic way. He smiled to himself, feeling foolish yet happy, as he always did when he had parsed a simple phrase.

"These sunglasses," Herger said in English, gesturing at a particular pair. The salesman nodded and took them off the shelf, unfolded the temple pieces, and extended them to Herger.

"Oh, _unnskyld_ —for him," Herger said, and turned toward Ahmed.

The salesman smiled gracefully and turned. "Sir?" he said politely.

Ahmed gave Herger an admonishing look, but took the sunglasses. As he slipped the frames onto his face, he saw Herger smile, his shamelessness not a bit less indistinguishable by the dark lenses.

"Excellent choice," the salesman said. Ahmed expected he would say as much, but at the same time he detected a note of honest admiration. Ahmed looked directly at Herger, and saw him inhale quickly. Always the first sign that he was turned on.

"A mirror, sir?" the salesman said, and took one up off the shelf. He held it while Ahmed looked.

He _did_ look very good, and with the weather now warmer, he needed a pair of sunglasses. He nodded at his reflection, then looked at Herger. "All right."

"You're getting easier," Herger said with a grin. Ahmed hoped his blush wasn't noticeable as he removed the sunglasses.

The salesman removed a security tag, but Ahmed was given the frames to wear immediately. They left with a small bag, an empty glasses case, and a receipt that Herger didn't let Ahmed see.

* * *

  
At the apartment later, Herger brought some water glasses out to the patio where Ahmed was sitting. "They're exactly what I'd hoped for," he said as he sat, studying Ahmed's face. "You look like you could be a young Omar Sharif. _Lawrence of Arabia._ Perfect Sixties chic."

"Lawrence of Arabia? I don't know what that means." Ahmed sipped from the glass, feeling a little uncomfortable while Herger scrutinized him.

"What?" Herger rarely looked surprised, even when Ahmed didn't understand Western references, so Ahmed knew it was something for him to act so shocked. "You've never seen it?"

Ahmed raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

"Mm, that we will have to remedy. It's a famous American movie with a very young, handsome Omar Sharif. Also Peter O'Toole. The homoerotic subtext is unmistakable."

"Now I understand why you like it," Ahmed said dryly. Herger grinned. "So he wears sunglasses like these in the movie?"

"No— It takes place at the beginning of the twentieth century. I just meant that if Omar Sharif wore those sunglasses at the time he made the film, you would look like him."

"I see," Ahmed said, but he didn't, not completely. He didn't think he looked like Sharif, regardless of the time. Why did it seem to make Herger happier that he looked like someone else, just because he wore something new?

He bent his head back to sheaf of papers in his lap, the first draft of his manuscript. Soon he was buried in the work, red pen scribbling marginalia.

* * *

  
Two nights later, Herger brought home a DVD copy of _Lawrence of Arabia_ , and after dinner they sat down to watch it.

Ahmed found it interesting, despite the various Hollywood-caused drawbacks—a British actor playing an Arab, for one. The portrayal of Auda by a Mexican actor he could forgive, for the skin coloring was at least similar, but it was the lesser of two evils.

Furthermore, after the first hour Herger lost his battle against his workaholism and pulled out his cell phone to check messages. He at least stayed on the sofa instead of going into the office, so that he was next to Ahmed throughout the movie—to point something out, or enjoy Ahmed's reaction. That was progress, for him.

As the credits rolled, Herger got up and stretched. Ahmed lazily watched his shirt ride up, and thought about kissing his stomach. Herger was a little self-conscious about the small paunch he had developed over the last year, but he wore it well, and it was endearing. It meant he was eating regular meals, for one thing.

"See what I mean about Sharif?"

"Yes, very handsome." Ahmed roused himself and got to his feet.

Herger slung his arms around him and pulled him into a hug. "That swarthy skin, those black robes…"

" _Dishdashah_ ," Ahmed corrected.

Herger repeated the word to himself, then continued. "Anyway, he was seriously gorgeous. Peter O'Toole isn't so bad himself, but I love Omar."

Now he was referring to the man by first name. This was getting even more strange.

"It didn't make you feel…homesick?"

"What an odd question," Ahmed said, and slipped out of the hug to push his hands into his jeans pockets. "It seems like you're obsessing over this actor, and with the movie, and your question—"

" _Nei nei nei— berklager,_ Ahmed—" Herger pushed his hands through his hair. "I just thought that since you were looking at that hotel, you might be feeling…" He trailed off and waved one hand around in a circle.

Ahmed snorted. "And you thought I was homesick? For the place I fled as a refugee?"

"There were good things you left behind, weren't there?" Herger gestured at the dark television. "I just wanted to show you I think about these things."

"You— Of course." Rubbing a hand over his face, Ahmed sighed. "I'm sorry. It was thoughtful of you. I was simply…"

"I can see how you would have been confused," Herger said, and drew him into another hug. This time he touched Ahmed's face, stroking a finger along his stubble, and kissed him with slow, lazy smooches.

* * *

  
Three days later, Ahmed came home to find the apartment filled with strangely familiar smells. He set his laptop bag down at the door and went into the kitchen, loosening his tie.

There were a few dishes in progress on the stove, but Herger wasn't there. Just then Ahmed heard the sliding door of the balcony, and turned to see Herger balancing a steaming tray. The smell of grilled meat and barbecue smoke drifted in with him, making Ahmed's mouth water.

Herger spotted him. "Oh good, you're home. Check the soup, would you?"

Ahmed automatically turned back to the stove, and after lifting a few pot lids, found the soup and dipped a wooden spoon into it. It was a red lentil soup, with onion, celery, and carrots. The warm scent of cumin came out with a puff of steam as he stirred.

Another pot bore rice, and the big frying pan simmered cubed red meat with fruit and tomato sauce. Herger joined him in the kitchen, and Ahmed saw that the tray he carried had four kebabs on it.

"What do you think?"

Ahmed realized he was smiling broadly, unconsciously delighted. Herger looked relieved. "Smells great."

"I didn't know until now how much Iraqi cuisine fits with my palate," Herger grinned. "We have lamb and vegetable kebabs, the lentil soup, lamb with stewed fruit over rice, and _khubaz_ for dessert. I know, it's not really supposed to be for dessert—"

"It's fine," Ahmed chuckled. He wrapped an arm around Herger's waist and squeezed. "I feel stuffed already. You've outdone yourself."

Herger shrugged and leaned in for a kiss. "Seems about right to me."

* * *

  
Ahmed polished off the _khubaz_ —flatbread with jelly—and leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "It is good manners to overeat," he said, his voice sounding thick and slow even to his own ears. "A compliment to the host." He smiled at Herger. "Consider your dinner a raging success."

"I don't think I've ever seen you put food away like that," Herger chuckled. He put down the last of his _khubaz_ , unable to finish, and picked up his napkin. "I'm glad you liked it."

Ahmed reached across the table and waited until Herger set the napkin down, then threaded their fingers together. "I remember our conversation," he said seriously, meeting Herger's eyes. Most of the time they looked mischievous, but not now; his blue eyes were serious. "I'm very touched you did this."

Herger smiled, and it wasn't the careless flash he usually gave when he felt awkward with an emotional situation. It was genuine. He squeezed Ahmed's fingers, then lifted their hands and kissed some knuckles. "It makes me happy to see you content. Call it selfish."

"I won't," Ahmed replied sternly, but smiled when Herger started sucking on one of his fingertips.

Herger got to his pinkie, kissed the tip, then curled Ahmed's fingers into his palm. "Ramadan starts soon, does it not?"

Ahmed felt the smile slip on his face. "A few weeks, why?"

"Are you going to observe?"

Now Ahmed withdrew his hand, putting it in his lap. "You know I haven't observed for a long time."

"Good," Herger said casually, and only smiled when Ahmed looked sharply at him. "Not because I disapprove. You should do whatever makes you happy. But because if you fasted, I would have to fast too, and I like food too much to go without until ten o'clock at night."

"That is very evident," Ahmed said seriously, looking toward Herger's stomach. He laughed when Herger threw his napkin at him. "I think you're missing the point of Ramadan."

"If the point is to be driven crazy by one's spouse, I'll do very well, I think."

* * *

  
That was a Thursday night. The next night, Herger showed up at the _Aftenposten_ offices, trailing behind a receptionist as she led the way through the web department cubicles to Ahmed's desk. " _Tusen takk,_ " Herger said with a smile as she presented him to Ahmed, and departed.

Ahmed leaned back in his chair. "What's wrong?"

Herger clicked his tongue. "Assuming the worse just because I come to you for once? Come on, get your things."

Ahmed glanced at the clock. It was a few minutes before five, but he was basically done for the day, and in fact had already packed up his computer. He rose and put on his suit jacket, then leaned over his cubicle wall to look at Vibeke, the production specialist, bent over her computer. " _Jeg dror,_ " he said.

" _God kveld,_ " she replied, barely glancing over her shoulder. Both Ahmed and Herger could see the blush on her smooth, twenty-something cheeks. It had become quite evident to them both that she had a serious crush on Herger, but after a few awkward lobby encounters, they had decided to not embarrass her by pushing attention on her.

" _I like mode,_ " Ahmed replied automatically, and turned to see that Herger was already holding his laptop bag.

They made their way out of the department, and once they were in the elevator Herger murmured, "You will be a language master before I know it."

"You saw about the extent of my conversational skills. You spoil me by speaking English all the time."

"Ah, you're probably right." Herger put his hand in his jacket pocket. "Maybe I should start learning Arabic, and then we can be on similar footing."

Just then the elevator reached the main floor, and Ahmed hesitated before replying. They walked out through the reception area. As Herger pushed open the door and held it, Ahmed said, "I don't know; Herger—"

He was distracted by seeing a limousine at the curb. Herger finally pulled his hand out of his pocket, and he held a red silk handkerchief.

"Get in the car," he told Ahmed, grinning. "And close your eyes."

With a smile spreading over his face, Ahmed did as he was told. As he crouched in the car doorway and moved himself across the bench seat, he felt Herger's hand brush his ass, and a chuckle behind him.

Then Herger got in and closed the door, and the silk handkerchief dropped over his eyes. Herger tightened it slowly, letting the fabric slide across his skin and hair. Ahmed felt goosebumps rise on his forearms.

Herger took his hand and settled in next to him. As Ahmed threaded their fingers together, he felt the car move off.

"Why do you go to such expense?" he asked, feeling a little foolish to speak without being able to make eye contact with Herger.

"Always worrying about the money," Herger sighed. He squeezed Ahmed's hand. "It is negligible, with the car service we already use. Now, please enjoy it."

"I would enjoy it more if I could see it," Ahmed muttered.

"Nonsense. Enjoy your other senses. Smell the leather upholstery. I would offer you a drink, but we'll be…at our destination shortly."

Herger pulled his hand free, and then Ahmed felt a light pressure on the outside of his thigh. The touch stroked down his leg, lightly and slowly, arousing his nerves. Ahmed inhaled deeply, moved already.

"Besides, if we were walking, we'd be out in the rain," Herger continued nonchalantly. His finger traced loops and swirls on Ahmed's thigh, and then dragged over to the inside. Ahmed spread his legs and leaned back, dropping his head to a cushioned headrest while the sensations danced up his nerves.

"It's raining?"

"Just started." And it was true, Ahmed could hear the rhythmic rushing of tires on wet streets. But it was hushed by the excellent sound proofing. It felt like they were in their own cave, warm and dry, and utterly secluded.

Herger's breath brushed his neck, and then his hot, wet lips touched his jaw and skimmed up to his ear. Ahmed sighed, his cock swelling at the sensation. He squirmed and tilted his head for more, but Herger drew back.

"We're here. _Vent et øyeblikk._ "

Ahmed waited as the door opened and closed. A moment later the door on his side opened, and someone—Herger—took his hand. He got out of the car with the lightest tug on his fingers, and felt light rain on his face. In a moment Herger had nudged his elbow and Ahmed stepped up onto a curb, then away from the street and under an overhang of some sort.

Through a short foyer, shoes clicking on tile floors, but no echo—a small space. Herger stopped them and, after a moment, an elevator dinged. When the doors slid open with a hiss, Ahmed stepped inside.

"We're home?" he said, confused, and looked toward where he thought Herger might be.

Herger laughed. "How can you tell?"

"Someone spilled some mustard or something in the elevator last week. I smell it again now."

"Hm…I'll have to get that shampooed." And a familiar clicking started—Herger's phone.

"Herger…" Ahmed reached up to the blindfold. "At least let me take this off, now."

" _Nei nei nei!_ " Herger caught his hand and squeezed his fingers. "Humor me?"

"Fine. If you put your phone away."

"I'm just emailing Ronild about the smell. There…just a—one…second…all right, done. Now, pretend you don't know where you are."

Ahmed snorted, but smiled. "All right."

The elevator dinged for their floor, and they stepped out. Herger guided him to the apartment door, and Ahmed waited while he entered the code for the lock. After the familiar click of the lock, Herger tugged the blindfold off.

Ahmed blinked, still seeing red. After a moment he realized it was a ribbon of color dividing the pale floor of the apartment—a red carpet snaking from the doorway. He laughed and stepped inside, tempted to follow it, but it led around the corner and toward the bedrooms.

"First," Herger said, closing the door behind them and setting down Ahmed's laptop. "Some champagne?"

"Sure." Ahmed walked further into the living area and slowed when he saw a massive bouquet of flowers on the table. It was a storm of orange and red, with shots of magenta blossoms spiking out. "Oh my. Where did you get that?"

"I can't give away all my secrets," Herger said from behind the refrigerator door. "Smell good, don't they?" The apartment had a faintly spicy scent, from the Asiatic lilies. Roses leant a more delicate note underneath.

Ahmed sneezed.

" _Prosit,_ " Herger said while closing the door, champagne bottle in hand. Ahmed sneezed again.

"I'm sorry, I think—" he waved a hand at the flowers and sneezed a third time. "They're beautiful, but—"

"Oh no! I'll take them outside." Herger handed Ahmed the bottle and picked up the vase, half-hidden under draping greens. Ahmed followed him to the balcony, sniffling.

"I do want to enjoy them…perhaps if I'm in fresh air, it will disperse the scent a little?"

"I'm not sure. I didn't know you were allergic, so I can't say." Herger brushed standing water off the table and set the vase down. The colors were vibrant against the gray rain clouds scuttling over the fjord. At least it was still picturesque.

Ahmed hummed, looking mournfully at the flowers. As Herger turned to leave the balcony, Ahmed held out the champagne bottle for him to take.

Suddenly there was a loud crack and shatter. The bottle lay in pieces across the threshold, champagne spreading over the deck and absorbing into the carpet.

" _Fæn_!" Herger yelped, his empty hands grasping.

"God, what happened?" Ahmed gingerly stepped away from the liquid and knelt, collecting bottle fragments.

"My hands were wet—it slipped. Ah, _dritt—nei_ , Ahmed, don't, you'll cut yourself. Get the–" He waved his hand, losing his English in his frustration. "The dust pan."

Ahmed got up and retrieved it, plus some cleaning rags to soak up the spilled wine. Herger was quiet as they worked. When Ahmed came back from the laundry closet, having deposited an armload of damp rags in the washer, he found Herger texting on his phone again.

"Might as well have them shampoo the apartment, too," he muttered as he finished typing. Ahmed felt an extra pang in the guilt he already felt.

He went to Herger and put a hand on his back, turning it into a hug when Herger didn't pull away. Herger slipped his phone into his pocket and hugged him back, kissing him chastely.

Herger's phone rang.

"That's probably the food," he said, pulling out of the hug and answering his phone automatically. Ahmed waited, smiling hopefully.

" _Hallo?_ Oh— _hei._ "

By his tone, it wasn't the food delivery. Ahmed sighed and went to the sofa to sit down, knowing it would be a long time if the call was about work.

" _Ringe opp deg senere? Nå er ikke den beste tiden._ " Herger looked guiltily at him, then quickly away. " _N-nei. Klokken ni?_ "

Ahmed started picking at a hangnail. Planning to make work calls at nine o'clock at night. He just loved that idea.

" _Fint. Vi skal snakke i morgen._ "

Ahmed straightened as Herger pressed the screen of his phone. "Putting off work until tomorrow morning?" he asked, hoping he had translated correctly.

"Of course. I'm not going to interrupt our—"

The phone rang again.

"Maybe it's the food," Ahmed said, smiling.

"Let's hope. I don't recognize the number. _Hallo?_ " Herger listened for a moment, then rolled his eyes. Ahmed frowned again. " _Nå er ikke god. Jeg skal ringe deg senere._ Okay?"

After ending the call, Herger stalked out of the living room and went to the kitchen, where he had laid a piece of paper, as he often did when he had a schedule or directions to follow. He consulted it and started tapping numbers into his phone. "They should be here by now."

Ahmed sighed and got to his feet, going to the guest bathroom; if nothing else, he could pass the time by trying to get his allergies under control. He blew his nose and took one of the pills they kept on-hand for guests, then returned to the living room.

Herger held the phone to his ear, his face tense. All traces of romantic lightheartedness had completely faded. After a moment, there was a knock on the door. Eager to put the unfortunate events behind them, both Ahmed and Herger went to answer it.

Herger got to the door first and yanked it open. A tower of brown paper bags emitting heat and delicious scents stood outside on two legs.

" _Komme inn,_ " Herger said, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

The delivery man apologized for being late and took the bags into the kitchen, where he unpacked more than half a dozen containers. He seemed about to break them open and start assembling plates, but Herger stopped him. After a surreptitious exchange of a tip, the man went on his way again.

"What do you have?" Ahmed went poking at the containers. It looked like more Iraqi food.

"I didn't want to spend time cooking, so I had a caterer prepare a meal." Herger pulled out enough dishes for two place settings.

"Wonderful." It smelled good, and there were a lot of containers. Ahmed smiled over them at Herger. "Can we eat outside?" The inside air was still thick with the scent of the flowers, and the fresh air would be welcome.

"Sure." Herger got a towel and dried the balcony table and chairs of rainwater, then transferred the place settings. Ahmed got out their serving dishes and opened up the food, discovering what Herger had ordered. There was the red lentil soup again, and a large _masgouf_ , snapper seasoned with salt, pepper and tamarind. It had already been barbecued; in fact, judging by the latent heat of the seared wooden sticks the fish was spread upon, the hours-long cooking process may have been the culprit behind the caterer's delay.

In addition to the fish were the traditional accompaniments of rice, flatbread, salad, herbed yogurt, and pickles. For dessert, Ahmed found _klaychah_ , date rolls with cardamon and cloves. His mouth watered.

Ahmed spooned the lentil soup into bowls while Herger put the fish on a platter and took it outside, along with the side dishes. They loaded the soup bowls onto a tray, and turned to go outside.

" _Oye!_ " Herger yelled.

Ahmed looked up, startled. There was a large gull on the table outside, pecking delightedly at the fish. Herger rushed out and waved it off, then bent over the fish, inspecting it.

Ahmed set down the soup tray, knowing what to expect. Shortly Herger came back inside with the fish.

"We could cut off the part it touched, I think." Herger's face was stormy.

Ahmed nodded, his neck and shoulders going tense.

Herger got out a large knife and meat fork, but the wood sticks the fish had been cooked on presented a challenge. The fish had been tied tightly to them, and there were many small loops of thread to snip through.

"Ah, fuck it." Herger tossed the knife down, letting it clang next to the plate. Ahmed cringed. "This whole night has been ruined."

"It has not. Here, let me—there's a trick to it." Ahmed took over the utensils—Herger thrusting them at him—while Herger went out to the balcony. After a minute he returned with the tray of side dishes, and let the tray drop onto a kitchen counter with a clatter.

Ahmed straightened, setting down the meat fork and knife. "Don't do this."

"Do what?" Herger snapped. "Keep the rest of the food from getting spoiled? Break anything else? Give you sneezing attacks? I try to give you a lovely romantic evening and—"

Ahmed took Herger's face between both hands and kissed him firmly. Herger made a muffled sound. After a moment he pulled away and said, "Don't try to distract me—"

"Shut up," Ahmed muttered, and pulled him back for another kiss. This time he felt the tension go out of Herger's shoulders, and Herger's hands came up to his favorite spot on Ahmed's body, the curve of his lower back just above his ass. Herger breathed out of the side of his mouth and then deepened the kiss, making a small sound in the back of his throat. The ruined dinner was undoubtedly forgotten. He followed the line of Ahmed's belt around to his front, and pulled on the buckle.

" _Nei,_ " Ahmed said, pulling out of the kiss. He looked at Herger's wet, red mouth and put his hands on Herger's belt, unfastening it quickly. In a few quick moves he popped the button on his trousers and unzipped his fly, then hooked his fingers in the waistband of his boxers and pushed them down. Herger held still as Ahmed knelt in front of him.

Herger wasn't totally hard, but Ahmed knew it wouldn't take him long. He licked his lips to make sure they would glide, then took Herger's cock into his mouth, gently licking and sucking the shaft. Herger sighed and leaned back against the bar, his hands going to Ahmed's shoulders. Ahmed loved to feel his hands in his hair, and licked attentively in hope of making Herger more energetic.

Herger did harden quickly; the shaft stiffened beautifully in Ahmed's mouth, and he soon tasted the early spurts of salty pre-come. But then Herger touched his ear and murmured, "I don't want to do this standing."

Ahmed pulled off, licking the head of his cock, then his lips. "So bossy," he muttered, climbing to his feet. "What about what I want, this evening most of all?"

"I thought you wanted to suck my cock," Herger said, grinning.

Ahmed pushed him to the sofa, but laughed as he did it. Herger bounced a little on the landing and shoved his pants down. Ahmed knelt between his legs and leaned forward, stroking his hands up Herger's thighs, ruffling the fine blond hair. Herger tilted his head back and closed his eyes, breathing deeply in anticipation, and Ahmed smiled to himself.

Teasing aside, Ahmed wanted to clear Herger's thoughts. He bent his head back to Herger's cock and guided it into his mouth with his tongue, pushing his head down as deep as he could go. Herger groaned and pushed his fingers into Ahmed's hair. Ahmed hummed in approval, rubbing the soft foreskin with his tongue, feeling it slide back behind the head as Herger hardened completely.

Herger was right; this was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to feel the heavy slide of Herger's cock between his lips, resting on his tongue, lubricating with more pre-come. Herger was really turned on, and knowing that made Ahmed hard. But he wouldn't satisfy himself in any way; holding back made the release so much sweeter.

"God, Ahmed—" Herger whispered, and started to move his hips in gentle thrusts. Ahmed glanced up. Herger's eyes were closed, and his mouth was open—both signs that he was completely relaxed and in the moment. Ahmed tightened his lips around the shaft and brought one hand back to Herger's balls, cupping them and massaging the loose skin. Herger started to make more noise, gasping and moaning, and his thrusts sped up.

Ahmed closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and put both hands on Herger's hips. Herger immediately stopped and held still while Ahmed pushed his head down, fighting his gag reflex, and worked the head of Herger's cock into his throat. He heard Herger swear and he pulled up, just in time for the shaft to harden completely. Returning his hand to Herger's balls, he felt a jerk under his fingers and lips, and his mouth filled with come while Herger gasped over and over again. Ahmed let the come pool on his tongue, swallowing a couple times, until Herger shakily touched his shoulder and he pulled off.

They took a moment to catch their breath. Herger looked completely debauched, sprawled half-naked on the sofa. Ahmed idly wondered how often he'd be reminded of this moment every time he looked at the sitting area, if a vision would come to him of Herger with his pants around his ankles and his cock relaxed against his hip. He smiled to himself.

Herger opened his eyes. "You look like the cat who has had the cream," he mumbled, a little hoarse. He cleared his throat.

"Some kind of cream," Ahmed smirked.

Herger rolled his eyes but grinned. "C'mon," he said, sitting forward and pulling up his pants. "Bedroom."

Ahmed led the way, amused again by the red carpet spread from the front door, down the hallway, and into the bedroom. Herger held his pants up with one hand and followed Ahmed.

In the bedroom Ahmed found that Herger had burned incense at some point, so the room still smelled faintly spicy. There were large, colorful pillows stacked on the bed, and a patterned screen stood in front of some of the windows. He laughed to himself, delighted again at the lengths to which Herger had gone.

The lights dimmed. Ahmed flopped down among the cushions on the bed, and watched with interest as Herger stepped away from the light switch and dropped his trousers and stripped off his shirt. He eyed Ahmed for a moment, smiling, then took one of his ankles and unstrapped the sandal from his foot.

Ahmed closed his eyes and let Herger undress him. He wasn't being particularly erotic about it, but the feeling was sensual all the same. Herger unbuttoned his dress shirt and pulled the tails out of his waistband, then dropped a feather-light kiss on his stomach. Ahmed reached for Herger, but Herger gently pressed his arms back to the cushions and continued.

Belt next, slowly drawn out through the belt loops. Then the button and zipper. The anticipation was building, and Ahmed knew Herger could feel the heat and flushed weight of his cock. Herger only briefly rubbed the front of his briefs before withdrawing.

"Come on, up. I can't do the rest with you lying down."

Ahmed opened his eyes and sat up. Herger went behind the screen and Ahmed could partially see him open the bedside table. Ahmed peeled off his shirt and trousers, then at last his briefs. He made a pile of cushions on the floor, and then drew back the covers and got into bed.

Herger looked around the edge of the screen, being secretive with whatever he held. "Close your eyes."

"This again?" Ahmed sighed, but did as requested, then felt the touch of silk over his eyes. Herger brushed his lips over Ahmed's throat as he tightened the blindfold, and Ahmed shivered and tilted his head to encourage more kisses.

"Good thing you decided to blow me," Herger murmured, his voice at a low, thrumming register that made Ahmed's cock throb. "I was trying to figure out how to get you into bed. You did all the work."

"As if you have to ask," Ahmed murmured, his breath quickening.

"I like a sense of adventure." Herger kissed over Ahmed's bare shoulder to his chest. Ahmed brought his hands up to touch, but Herger caught his wrists and pressed them down again. "Lie down, _kjæreste._ "

Herger seemed to measure his movements with his mouth, hovering over Ahmed's body as he lay back and scooted up the bed. With every motion he felt the brush of breath and lips, over his chest, then hip, then thigh. Finally he rested his head on a pillow and arched his hips slightly, wordlessly pleading, but Herger ignored the hint. Ahmed flopped down, frustrated.

There was a little more rustling, then a surprise sensation. Something soft, transmitting a thousand tiny points of pressure, sweeping from his ear down to his collarbone. It tickled and Ahmed squirmed, turning his face toward the sensation. It brushed his mouth and he realized it was fur.

"You like it?" Herger murmured, stroking down his throat. Ahmed tilted his head back, encouraging more, and hummed his approval.

Herger stroked the fur slowly down his chest, moving it in swirls and curving lines, tracing the contours of his body. The light touch made him highly sensitized, so that when Herger finally reached his nipples, it felt like a hot bolt going through every nerve. He jerked and moaned, trying to arch into Herger's hand, seeking a more satisfying pressure. Herger chuckled, making Ahmed smile. Herger then swept his touch over to Ahmed's ribcage and used the back of his fingers to rub Ahmed's side, normally a soothing affectionate gesture, made sexier by the fur.

Ahmed rolled onto his side and lifted his chin. Herger easily took the cue, and in a moment his husband's soft mouth was on his, Herger's mustache rubbing above their lips. As they kissed, Ahmed felt the fur slide down his back and over his hip, dipping between his buttocks for a moment to tease his balls. He panted into Herger's mouth and tried to shift around for more, but the fur went away. He broke the kiss and groped for Herger's hand.

" _Et øyeblikk,_ " Herger murmured, drawing away. Ahmed felt the bed shift, and reached up to remove the blindfold. He wanted to see Herger, desperately wanted to know what he was doing. But Herger hadn't gone far, and caught his hand and murmured " _Nei,_ not yet."

"When?" Ahmed asked, exasperated. He rubbed his chest and stomach, trying to relieve some of the ache of arousal.

"Right now." And Herger nudged his legs apart, settling between them. Ahmed breathed a sigh of relief, and sighed again when Herger started sucking him. Herger seemed eager for it, too: taking him all the way in, quickly, licking and sucking enthusiastically. For a moment Ahmed thought he was too sensitized for Herger to go that fast, but then his body caught on to the rhythm and he started moving his hips in small thrusts, fucking up into Herger's mouth. When Ahmed ran his fingers into Herger's hair and held him steady to receive his thrusts, Herger moaned his approval and sucked strongly, taking him deep.

Then Herger touched Ahmed's wrist, and they separated. Ahmed opened his eyes but remembered the blindfold when all he saw was dark red light. He heard the familiar sounds of the lube bottle, and put his heels on the bed and spread his legs wide.

The next touch was to his balls, a light, wet swipe of a tongue. Ahmed gasped, as much from the hair being ruffled as from Herger's tongue. Herger took one testicle between his lips and mouthed it gently, igniting the nerves and making Ahmed catch his breath on a moan. Ahmed tried shifting his hips to get closer, but Herger pulled up.

Ahmed froze. "I'm sorry—"

"No, it's not you." Herger kissed his mouth. He smelled musky now. "I just want to do…this."

Then there was a light, solid pressure against his hole. It slid around a little from lube, but it wasn't a fingertip. Ahmed bit his lip and shifted against it, consciously relaxing his muscles, and it pushed inside him.

From the immediate stretch, it was some kind of plastic toy. Ahmed grunted and waited for his body to adjust, holding his breath. Herger rubbed his stomach and chest with one hand, murmuring nonsense. When Ahmed relaxed again, Herger pushed further on the toy, surprising him. It seemed to pop into his body, then start stretching him again. A plug, one with more than just one flare along the shaft.

"God, Herger—" It was too much. Ahmed arched and Herger stopped. Over endless minutes Herger slowly pressed the plug further, stopping when Ahmed needed a rest, but continuing inexorably until Ahmed's ass had stretched around the widest point, and then just a little further. On a hot rush it became completely settled inside him, his body closing around the plug's narrow neck, and the base rested snug against his entrance.

The plug felt huge, a full heaviness pressing against everything. When Ahmed moved he felt it shift against his prostate and give him a jolt. He knew Herger was waiting, so he breathed deeply and nodded.

"There's no rush." Herger took his shaft in hand and stroked it a few times. With the plug in, everything felt more sensitive. Ahmed groaned and tried to thrust into Herger's grip, but the plug was almost too much, and Ahmed stopped before he got too sensitized.

Herger started sucking him off again. Ahmed held still, feeling pinned, or tied down. It lent an eroticism similar to the blindfold. He breathed shallowly, feeling his arousal ramp up quickly, the sensation rising to a peak.

Herger shifted the plug and Ahmed felt a throb from his prostate that made him groan, loudly. Herger pulled off his cock.

"I want you to yell for it," he murmured hoarsely, and licked the head of Ahmed's cock. Ahmed twitched. "I want to see you come hard. Shoot all over me."

"Keep—that up—" Ahmed said, short of breath. Herger shifted the angle of the plug inside him, and it came to rest solidly against his prostate. Ahmed writhed, moaning, working himself closer to orgasm by the second. Now Herger helped him, stroking Ahmed's cock to drag him closing to orgasm, judging his progress by Ahmed's helpless gasps. Then he took Ahmed back into his mouth, licking and sucking fervently. Ahmed began to thrust his hips and heard himself crying out as his body clenched and flexed, come shooting into Herger's mouth, again and again. Herger sucked him for a moment, then lifted off and used his hand, pumping Ahmed quickly while come shot onto his belly in hot streaks.

Then it was over, and Ahmed shakily touched Herger's slowing hand. He stopped and released Ahmed, and for a moment all Ahmed sensed was the wet sounds of Herger's tongue and the burn of the plug left in his ass.

"Mm," Herger hummed. His voice was close, low over Ahmed's chest. "You're a mess."

Ahmed tried to think of something witty to say, but his brain stopped working again as Herger began licking the come off his stomach. He held still and breathed shallowly, not anywhere close to getting aroused again, but enjoying the sensations all the same. Herger eased the plug out of him as he licked, and Ahmed relaxed further.

Finally Herger licked up his throat and kissed him, deeply and with lots of tongue. Ahmed sought out the flavor of come and hummed his approval. After a while he felt tugging on the back of his head, and then the blindfold slipped away. He broke the kiss and opened his eyes.

Herger looked ravished, a common look since his fine blond hair was so easily mussed. Ahmed smiled and combed his fingers through it.

Herger rubbed against his hand for a second, then flopped onto his back next to Ahmed. "God, I'm tired. Let's go to bed."

"It's…" Ahmed squinted at the clock. "Just after seven. And I'm a little hungry," he confessed guiltily.

"Don't make me think of that dinner," Herger groaned. He put his arm over his eyes.

"The fish may be a loss, but there was a lot of other things." Ahmed nudged his husband. "Bring in a tray?"

Herger lifted his arm and peered one-eyed at Ahmed, then closed his eye and nodded, sighing, "As you wish, love." He swung out of bed and got some pajama pants out of the bureau.

"And can you pile up some of those cushions?" Ahmed drew up the sheet over his chest.

"All right."

Ahmed grinned. "And a hot cloth to clean up with," he said as Herger stacked some cushions around Ahmed.

Herger braced himself over Ahmed, his eyes crinkled with the smile that made Ahmed indescribably happy. Ahmed raised his head and met Herger's kiss. "Anything you want," Herger murmured against his mouth.

A smile lingered on Ahmed's face as he watched Herger walk out of the room, thinking back to how this campaign of Herger's had started. _Anything you want._ For some reason that made Ahmed think of the webpage for the Burj al Arab hotel suite. So when Herger came back in with a loaded tray, complete with a hot, damp towel folded in a tidy roll, Ahmed asked, "Is this about that hotel?"

Herger shot him a grin as he set down the tray and piled some cushions onto the bed. "Perhaps."

Shaking his head, Ahmed cleaned up with the towel. "You didn't have to do this."

"Why not?"

"Herger…" Ahmed shifted onto his knees and pulled some cushions around so they could sit next to the tray. "That's a fantasy. I mean, it's a construct that is only perfect in the imagination. In reality there are probably fleas in the carpet and surly sous chefs spitting in the food."

"Surly sous chefs?" Herger laughed.

Ahmed grinned. "The point is, this—everything you planned, and how it turned out perhaps not exactly how you imagined it, but just as good—this all makes me happier than anything."

Herger settled himself next to the tray and picked up a spoon. He grinned as he dug into his bowl of lentil soup. "That'll save on airfare, at least."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, as always, to my darling beta ixchel55, and to killabeez for Photoshop betaing.
> 
> Glossary  
>  _God dag_ : Good day  
>  _Unnskyld_ : Excuse me  
>  _Berklager_ : Sorry  
>  _Tusen takk_ : A thousand thanks  
>  _Jeg dror_ : I'm going  
>  _God kveld_ : Good evening  
>  _I like mode_ : The same to you  
>  _Vent et øyeblikk_ : Wait a moment  
>  _Fæn_ : Fuck  
>  _Dritt_ : Shit  
>  _Ringe opp deg senere? Nå er ikke den beste tiden_ : Call you later? Now is not the best time.  
>  _Klokken ni_ : Nine o'clock  
>  _Fint. Vi skal snakke i morgen_ : Fine. We'll talk tomorrow.  
>  _Nå er ikke god. Jeg skal ringe deg senere_ : Now is not good. I'll call you later.  
>  _Kjæreste_ : Boyfriend/girlfriend; literally "dearest"
> 
> All norsk words/phrases are by me; all translation errors are my fault.


End file.
